Here the pushful man will score heavily. Putting all diffidence in his pocket, he will broach his message, boldly disregarding the frowning face of the gentleman in charge, who naturally looks upon him as a foe. But the shy, reserved man (and both these qualities are very common among seamen) will stammer and beat about the bush, conceal the true nature of his errand, and retire awkwardly in considerable confusion. Having obtained a berth, however, it will generally rest with himself how far he will be able to raise himself by its means. True, there are many things--which will be treated fully under the different headings of the various officers--which by no fault of his own may hinder and dishearten him, but the unattached officer must not allow them to daunt him. He must persevere, keeping his weather eye lifting for every opportunity of advancement, and especially perfecting himself in all the complicated details of his profession, in anticipation of the day when, a full-blown shipmaster, he will be where his longings have led him. It may be asked, "But what has all this to do with the master himself--his duties, his position, etc.?" The question is quite reasonable, and I feel the full force of it; but there is a strong temptation to anticipate the succeeding chapters, when one remembers the passage over the generally thorny way leading up to the chief position on board ship. However, I will do my best to avoid further digression, and proceed at once to give, to the best of my ability, a sketch of that much-envied individual's privileges and responsibilities. The first difficulty that presents itself is classification. For, although the Board of Trade certificate of master qualifies its possessor to take command of the most splendid liner, it is absolutely essential to the assumption of chief charge of a tiny schooner engaged in foreign trade. Yet it must be obvious that between these two positions there is a great gulf fixed--not in qualification, for there is really no reason why the holders thereof should not change places at any time. In many cases it is accident alone that determines whether a man shall be master of a liner or a clumsy little brig, lumbering painfully across to the West Indies. In spite of this fact, one cannot expect that the grand gentleman who commands such a magnificent ship as the _Teutonic_ or _Campania_, for instance, should be able to refrain from looking down upon his brother master of the _Susan_, brigantine of two hundred tons register. To the liner master's credit be it said, he does not show nearly the same _hauteur_ towards his less fortunate fellow that he might reasonably be expected to do. That sort of view of their respective positions is usually taken by people ashore, who know just enough of the conditions to enable them to make such a tactical mistake.